


all the mind a pyre

by dalishluthien



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), The Fade, Trans Hawke (Dragon Age), idk how 2 tag and i wont learn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalishluthien/pseuds/dalishluthien
Summary: He thinks he might sleep better in the Bone Pit, and says as much to Varric. Kirkwall is the void. A cleverly made up trick of the fade, a hungry mouth sucking misery from stone.Orson Hawke grapples with the sloth demon that's made a home in the back of his mind.
Relationships: Fenris/Male Hawke
Kudos: 7





	all the mind a pyre

Apathy coats his insides like a scalded mouth, papery and constant, reducing his feelings to something ill-fitting, misaligned, and dulled.

He’s too tired even to confront the sloth demon he knows is chewing at his heels. He doesn’t go to the fade in his dreams. He just sleeps. Black and unrestful, and never for long enough. He thinks he might sleep better in the Bone Pit, and says as much to Varric. Kirkwall is the void. A cleverly made up trick of the fade, a hungry mouth sucking misery from stone.

Nights at the Hanged Man let him turn those circular thoughts into jokes, lifting the sagging roof with gales of bitter laughter, lungs eager for mirth. His companions soothe his scalded insides, but only Fenris makes him feel less alone. The sense that he knows the exact degree of the feeling, the apathy gorging itself on boiling rage, the absence of all other moods, is enough to stay the beast. To shoo the demon from his shadow, at least for an evening. And it is enough to help him, day by day, to keep his footing.

He goes home, and he dreams.

The sloth demon is, unsurprisingly, himself. Asleep in his bed, sprawled as if dead, sunken impossibly deep into the mattress, eyes open and trained on him.

“Get out of here, demon,” it says, and Orson smiles, wide and bright and challenging.

“You first.”

It attempts to possess him. Forces him to his knees with a wave of exhaustion so absolute he worries his head will sink into the floor, terrified, for one awful moment, by how much he wants to just let it push him into that empty sleep. So he sets the bed on fire, and the curtains, and the demon, and thinks of Fenris storming Danarius’ mansion, of Fenris ripping Hadriana’s heart out from inside her ribs, of Fenris’ readiness to fight at his side in the alleys of Kirkwall’s maze. He lets the fire warm his body, watches as the demon stands in the flames, clothes peeling away to reveal a body Orson doesn’t know. It stretches languidly in the roiling blaze, and at the sight of it, an awful sensation - an old rush of jealousy and anguished _recognition_ \- squeezes the breath out of him.

He remembers how Fenris had treated him, before having to leave, halting any deeper wants the both of them might have for each other while they reconcile themselves with what they each are. He had been gentle. Eager. Unfazed. Orson sighs, and raises a trembling, trained hand.

The flames roar to new heights, and the demon screams it’s frustration, breathing them in, melting and charring the perfect body it tried to offer him. 

“You offer me something I do not want, creature.” He snarls, clenching his fist. The fire flashes hot enough to bend the edges of the dream.

With a sickened moan, the demon relinquishes his form to unspool in hideous, lazy coils of oily smoke. Orson inhales, wakes easily and calmly, a hand slowly coming to rest over his chest.

He exhales, his hair fluttering against his face. He feels hollow and bright. Scoured clean.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's me, rennybu! 
> 
> I wrote this a while ago as a sort of love letter to Orson's self-acceptance despite all the angst and turmoil DA2 puts him through. He's got way more pressing issues than being a no-op trans dude. I've got a LOT to say about treating trans bodies as normal, and about how Orson handles his issues with depression and apathy, but my skills lie in writing these short and flashy little scenes and decidedly Not in writing longer works. 
> 
> [Here's the Hawke in question!](https://rennybu.tumblr.com/post/621582745173409792/)
> 
> I hope u like it!! My askbox on tumblr is always open.


End file.
